Below are two different opening chapters of the second book in the Copper Mystery series. I thought I would ask for a review of these two chapters and hear what the public might think. All criticism is welcome. Did I really say that?
Choice Number One
What should have been routine, turned life changing. Cruising well above the speed limit, my phone rings for the umpteenth time. Most of the calls were one word answerable questions. This one from an unknown number. A California area code.
“Chief Lawler.”
“Chief?”
“Yes, this is the Copper Police Department. What can I do for you?”
“Chief, you said Lawler, right?” This is getting irritating.
“Yes, Peter Lawler, Chief of Police of Copper, Arizona. What’s going on?”
“Sorry, Chief, this is Captain Gene Fielding of the California Highway patrol” Sat me up in my seat. “I’m afraid there’s been an accident over here that involves your wife, Kelly Lawler.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sorry, sir, it’s quite serious. Kelly Lawler was involved in a vehicle accident. I’m sorry to inform you she did not survive the accident.”
Breath left my body… more than I could manage. Immediate brakes, the Bronco slid onto the shoulder past the blacktop into a cloud of dust and rocked to a stop. I grabbed the phone and put it to my ear. My hands were sweaty, my whole body instantly dripped… I was cold. Dust blew in the open window and coated my wet arm.
“Wait a minute. Tell me that again what are you saying. Talk slow.”
“Yes, Chief, your wife was involved in a serious accident on Interstate 10 and did not survive. Do you understand what I’ve said?”
“Yes, of course, just trying to grasp the situation. She’s my ex… was my daughter with her?”
“No, sir, she was alone in the vehicle. There does not appear to be any other vehicles involved. She ran off the road, perhaps fell asleep? There will be a further investigation.” Of course Brayden wasn’t with her, I had just dropped her off at school, my mind was all over the place.
I collected my thoughts. “Where is she?”
“She will be at the coroner’s office in Indio. I’ll text you their phone number.”
Needed to take a breath first. “Okay… thanks, okay.” I pushed the disconnect button .
I sat still, stunned. Sweat trickled down my back. It covered my body. A jolt went through me, and my body shivered head to toe. I needed to find Brayden. How do I tell her? I stepped out of the Bronco and circled the vehicle at least twice. Not sure where I was. I got back in the truck, leaned back… took a breath. How would this work? How would she react? I also needed to tell Kelly’s mom. What would we do? I needed a drink! No! My mind was a blur. I had asked no questions, just hung up. I sat in a fog. No tears, at least not yet. Another chill ran through me. Not that cold. It was shock. I needed to talk to that officer again. My phone buzzed. It was the text from him. I needed more details. What happened? How soon could I see her? Someone will have to identify the body. I guess that will be me, certainly not Brayden, and we’re certainly not going to wait on her mother. I redialed the officer’s number. I needed answers. It still didn’t feel real.
The drive back to Mesa was under an hour. I had just made that drive. I debated should I call her on the drive or just go to her school and be there when she walks out of the building? Or go in and get her. She won’t be leaving school yet. What’s an hour before she finds out her life has just spun into oblivion. This was going to change both of our lives. It did not matter I was no longer married to Kelly, but I still loved the woman. I needed to prepare myself for this. Get a grip! No drink! Not yet!
The real life-changing questions started to hit me. Where is Brayden? Of course, she’s in school; that’s where I’m headed. Get a grip. Thank God she wasn’t with her? How is she going to take this? Not well., of course. What will we do? Where will she live? School? She’d already been through so much in her 15 years. Her parents’ divorce, her moving from Chicago, her kidnapping. More than what is fair for one so young.
“Julie, I’m leaving town for a while. I’ll be in touch.” I was halfway to Mesa by the time I made that call.
Next call. “Miguel, I need you to take over any investigations for a while. I’ve got to head back to Mesa. I’ll talk to you later.” I hung up on him before he could ask questions; he would rise to the task. Sergeant Miguel Foster, my right-hand man and my occasional conscience. When I took the Chief of Police position, he and I started on the wrong foot, but now I couldn’t live without the man.
I debated with myself… how to tell Brayden. I hoped she had not received the same call I had, pretty sure she hadn’t, or Fielding would have said something. My head is in some kind of daze… have to pull over, I couldn’t see through the tears. I hyperventilated every few minutes. I pulled off at the Apache Junction exit, put the truck in park and let it out before I was in front of Brayden. Nothing aligned in my head. No drink! Not yet! Then would be dangerous!
My mind went back to the last time I had seen Kelly:
It was a trip to Mesa for one of our weekends together. Pulled up to Kelly’s place to pick Brayden up. A knock on the door did not produce Brayden but Kelly. “Hi there, Brayden home from school?”
“Come on in. Kenna’s mom is bringing her home today.” She reached up to give me a kiss on the cheek. “They should be here shortly. Would you like something to drink?”
“That would be great; water’s fine.”
My heart still warmed every time I saw her. A beautiful woman, a wonderful mother. We divorced back when we lived in Chicago; I was a cop and a drunk, that’s why we split. We moved to Arizona as a family, a separated family, but still a family. She bought the condo they lived in, while I rented an apartment in downtown Phoenix during my stint as a PI. My sobriety and my PI experience lasted six years until I fell off the wagon. A climb back on that wagon ultimately brought about my career change and my move to Copper, just forty-five minutes from my Brayden.
I stood in front of the fireplace mantle and reviewed the family photos. My favorite was Brayden in her pink tutu. I think she was four years old . The stubborn ballerina… that didn’t last, but I loved seeing her try to hold her “first position.” I perused the mantle top of all the family pics and became sentimental about our relationship. We tried to reunite when I was a PI, but just too many memories, and I would bet, still some distrust. I had not been a good guy.
“What ya lookin’ at?” I could hear her snicker.
“Remember the recital? That’s one of those memories that make you say, ‘savor each moment’ because they grow up too fast.”
“So true. The same with the picture of you two and that enormous sunfish.” We both laughed.
“You miss those times?”
“You know, some were great, some not so much. But more yes’s than no’s.” We exchanged what I felt was a warm look.
The door opened, and in walked Brayden, waving goodbye to Kenna. She moved at lightning speed. The book bag hanging off her shoulder looked like it might dislocate it. She dropped it with a thud and came over to give me a hug.
“Let me go pack a bag.” She picked up the backpack and drug it down the hall to her room.
Kelly said, “She’s just a ball of energy.”
“Things going well with her at school?”
“She’s such a focused girl.”
“Like her mother,” Kelly smiled.
“How’s your class doing this year?”
“I’ve got a talented group of kids. No real discipline issues, which is a blessing. Last year was a struggle. By the way, in a couple of weeks, I get to teach at a seminar over in California for elementary teachers. Brayden can stay with you when I’m out of town?” I had forgotten how her stories of her workdays were so enjoyable.
“Of course.”
Brayden said. “You were early.”
“Got a few things to take care of in Phoenix before we head back.”
Kelly said, “you two going to do some hiking this weekend?”
“Yep, that’s the plan, think I have a new trail for us to explore. Got a bit of a messy situation that may cause some interference, but not much can happen until I get forensics and autopsies back, not likely to happen over the weekend.”
“You ready?” She had her backpack hanging from her shoulder. “You got some homework in there in case you get bored?” I laughed; she didn’t. She turned and gave her mom a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. Their last hug and kiss.
Choice Number Two
Charlie was back in Phoenix. I headed to the Fernal’s to remove the crime scene tape. Just placed my butt in the seat when the radio went off. The call: “We have a 901 going on at Lester’s Funeral Home.” Something you don’t hear often in a town like Copper or any town.
I grabbed the mic. “A stabbing? At the funeral home? Do we know a who or what?”
“Jerry Lester just called 911 and whispered that somebody was knifing someone in his back room.”
“On my way.”
“Miguel should be there before you, chief.”
She was right; his cruiser was out front with the driver’s door wide open. Inside, he stood by the doorway leading to the building’s back rooms. I drew my weapon and followed Miguel down the hall. Jerry stood left of the door at the end of the hall. His finger pointed into the room; his face matched his white dress shirt.
“Who’s in there?”
“The Fernal girl… with a knife… in there. She stabbed her father’s body, a bunch.” That raised an eyebrow. Miguel went first; I followed.
A mortuary table occupied the brightly lit room’s center, like an operating room, with an enormous light above the table and a drain at the foot. Six square refrigerator doors lined the far wall; one was open, its slide pulled out, the body exposed from the body bag. The young girl raised and lowered the knife, a hesitation with each stab as her arm tired… tears streaming. Miguel walked up behind her, wrapped his arms around the girl, eased her to her knees below the body, and cuffed her. The knife she had been flailing skittered across the floor… it appeared to be a common kitchen knife. She blubbered and sobbed as she sat on her haunches. She looked exhausted. Miguel loomed over her.
“Now, take a breath, hon. Can you tell me your name?”
“I’m… ” A gasp for air. “Laura… Laura Fernal.”
Miguel, trying to calm her, said, “Yep, Peter, Laura just got a little carried away.” An understatement.
Laura continued to cry and hiccup to catch her breath. I doubted she was even eighteen.
“Miguel, help her into that chair.” I pointed to a folding chair near the wall.
I pulled another around in front to be eye to eye with her. Laura regained her composure. Tears streaked across the red glow on her cheeks. “You want to tell me what’s going on here, Laura?”
“That man.” She stopped to catch her breath. “That man over there has been raping me my whole life.”
“You do know he’s dead, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do, but I had to do something. I’ve waited forever to get even with him.” Another, deeper breath, followed by a gulp of air, “I hate that son of a bitch!” She nodded toward the body.
“That’s your father, right?”
“Not the whole story.” Strange answer.
The entry door slammed against the wall. We all turned towards the door. Celeste Fernal stormed into the room, straight toward her daughter. She pulled a revolver from her coat pocket and, without a word, pointed it at Laura’s head and pulled the trigger. Laura tumbled from her chair, landed on my feet. Her blood splattered across my face and down the front of my uniform. I pulled my gun.
“Celeste, drop the… ” In one swift move, Celeste lifted the gun to her right temple and sprayed her brains over the wall to her left. The revolver flew across the room and settled against the wall.
My ears were ringing from the two blasts. My shoulders slumped and my arms dropped to my sides. Miguel and I stared at each other, both of us with lost looks. “What the hell just happened?” We stood there for what seemed like an hour to make sense of the scene. Blood and brains everywhere. I tried to gather my thoughts as I walked over and kicked the Ruger she had used. A powerful 357, surprising.
“Miguel, isn’t there another daughter?”
“A younger girl named Ari, I think. She’s probably 15 or 16. At home, I would think. I hope.”
I pulled the radio off my belt. “Wayne, get over to the Fernal’s home. Be cautious. Don’t know what to expect.”
I took a seat across the room… one not splattered with blood or brains, took a deep breath. Glancing around the room at the bodies… it was difficult to comprehend what had just unfolded before our eyes. Jerry Lester stood near the back of the room, in the doorway. His face still pale; unusual for one so accustomed to death, but this was no ordinary set of deaths. They rarely happen in front of him. I hadn’t noticed before; his pasty white face was covered with a thin coat of sweat, not sure that comes with the job. Shock, I’m sure.
I had found Justin, the father, dead on the floor of his kitchen a week ago. Taken by a heart attack. The body remained here during our search for Celeste and the girls. There has got to be more to this story. Certainly no longer simple.
Miguel said, “Chief, we need to have a second look at everything about the Fernals.”
“How did Justin really die? There wasn’t an autopsy because we thought his death was natural… if it was. Now I wonder if we can even perform a detailed autopsy, since they have embalmed him.
Miguel shrugged his shoulders. “Let’s ask Jerry.”
“Peter, could you tell me what’s going on?” Jerry and I knew each other from our Rotary meetings, but this has grown with this more personal shared experience..
“Right now, Jerry, I don’t have a clue. We’re trying to piece this together. Could you give us some insight into how we got to this point?”
“This is our prep and storage area. As you know, we haven’t been able to locate relatives. We kept the body here until we could make arrangements with the family. The girl came in and wanted to view her father. I told it would be best to wait for her mother. She said she was on the way; they wanted to view her father. An actual ceremony wasn’t to happen until we arranged it with the family. It was my understanding that Mr. Fernal died of some natural cause? A heart attack. We picked up the body from the clinic three days ago.”
“Nobody performed an autopsy, right?”
“Normally not done in this kind of case. But now I’m betting you’re gonna want one. The embalmed body will complicate matters. You want me to call Doc Evans?”
“Thanks, Jerry, I’ll take care of that.” I turned to Miguel, “See what cars Laura and Celeste drove are out front, impound them. I’ll have Wayne look at them.”
Miguel called Copper Towing to handle the move. While I pulled my phone out to reach our county medical examiner, Doc Evans. Wagoner’s radio call interrupted.
“Chief, a young girl’s body here, in the garage. She appears to have hanged herself.”
Crap, could it get worse?
“What a mess.”
COPPER WINDS 